


Just Can't Fight Fate

by CarpathianRose



Category: Constantine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Hot Sex, Loss of Virginity, Sarcasm, Sexual Humor, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:38:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3805645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarpathianRose/pseuds/CarpathianRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Constantine knew he couldn't fight fate. Zed was having a hard time accepting it. But she'll just have to accept his help when fate laughs in their faces and she's faced with a demon who will suck the very soul from her body. Through sex. Now that's just up Constantine's alley. Ironic, isn't it, that he has to save her from it? Constantine/Zed</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This fiction will contain adult material. Read at your own risk.

 

Chapter One

 

The scratch of pencil over paper echoed in the cluttered room. The feminine hand moved furiously, gray smudged on the side of her hand from the endless hours of sketching. The hazardously strewn papers were testimony to that. They cluttered the floor, overflowing the two small trash cans in the room.

She couldn't stop. Not yet.

She'd seen all of these images before, so she knew them by memory alone, but she paid attention to keen detail, even the deep, dark set of their eyes that terrified her. Soulless eyes. But they were long gone. Dead. Cast into the pits of hell by none other than John Constantine himself.

John Constantine.

A man hated by Demons—and probably Angels, too—alike.

It was his fault that she'd been drawn into his psychotic little world. That wasn't exactly the truth, but would she admit that? No, Zed thought, she wouldn't. He was still to blame, she thought with a snort.

Her wrist ached from the constant movement, but she had to get the images out of her mind, the sudden flare up of memories that had sent her into a night filled with nightmares. But none of these sketched images meant anything; they were long gone Demons. So she didn't understand it.

She hunched over the desk, holding the coal pencil tip against the paper as she darkened one side of the image, made a curve. The image began to take place, familiar as she smudged it with the tip of one fingertip and then she froze. John Constantine stared up at her from the paper, so familiar.

She hadn't seen him in two years.

Her hand was shaking because she wasn't done. The need to continue was pushing at her, because the images were still fresh in her mind, but she took the moment to stare at the fine details. She hadn't expected the image that her hand was making on the paper to be him.

They'd fought a long battle. He'd saved her countless times and she'd returned the favor just as many. Though, half the time it was his own fault he'd gotten himself into any of the trouble. The world had fallen into dark times and Constantine had been there to set it right...he'd kept his promise, he'd told her, and set rights to that little girl he'd damned to hell.

His soul wasn't even damned to hell anymore, either.

If that wasn't enough to make any man, happy, then she didn't know what was.

But she was terrified. The last time she'd found herself forming these random, horrifying images on paper, her world had been turned upside down and thrust into the paranormal.

Just as quickly as she'd finished Constantine's image, she thrust it aside and started on another. It didn't take her long to realize that she was drawing him again. The jaw was familiar, but filled with stubble. Recent or past? She honestly didn't care. She needed it out of her system. She quickly formed just the side of his body, his hands stuffed into the long overcoat he'd always worn before she swept her hand over the desk and sent the paper to the floor.

The next one was the same, but this time without the overcoat. She could see it in her minds eye that his shirt was pristine white and he had that same annoying curve to his lips. Two minutes later she was on another, but this time his shirt was unbuttoned. She frowned and colored in the shadows furiously and then that picture followed the rest over the side of the table.

The next one he was top naked. Her eyes narrowed as she sketched the muscles lining his forearms and down to his tapered waist. She would have liked to think that he was a fat slob, but Zed knew better. She didn't recall ever seeing him without his shirt on, but her visions, her dreams were never wrong. If the muscled abs she was tracing into place furiously were there, then they were there.

She wiped a hand across her forehead, smearing a dark smudge there before she went to work on another. And another. These were just like the first time. Constantine. One after the other.

"Ah...fuck." Zed whispered, her hand skidding to a halt over the rough sketch. He was shirtless again and there was a small dusting of hair on his chest that v'eed down his narrow waist. He still wore his pants but this time his belt was loose, the buckle hanging to one side. His pants were unbuttoned and hanging open. She couldn't see inside, because she had shadowed the interior...

What. The. Hell.

It took her a moment to realize that she'd started another sketch on the paper beside that one and the image was nearly the same, but there was a pair of feminine hands coming from behind his body. One hand was flat against his abdomen while the other had zeroed down, the tips of bare nails barely inside his waistband. She hadn't drawn the image any further, just the a shoulder below his, the long line of an arm coming from behind.

Her mind was buzzing and she gave in to the need and cleared the desk. The next image that started to form was not Constantine. It was almost plain. She recognized the take of muscles, the long arms that tapered down into hands. She would have called them human if not for the way his fingers thickened, his nails almost claw like.

A Demon, then.

She couldn't see the face clearly, so her fingers just shadowed in the facial features, though around the head she noticed the curve of large horns. She felt a vague sense of Deja' vu. Because this wasn't a Demon she recognized. The Deja' vu came from a sense that all the other times she'd drawn something she hadn't seen...was because that 'something' was coming.

No. Oh, God, no. Not again.

She wanted to stop, but knew she couldn't. Her hand wouldn't stop this time. And this was the last one. Her hand worked lower along the image, her eyes staring hard, tracing the line of almost human hips. Everything about the image was human, except for the devilish looking claws of his hands, and of course those horns. And his size. He looked massive. And by the time she was done, her hands clamped to her mouth in horror when she realized what she'd drawn.

She wasn't scared of it, necessarily. What terrified her was that she'd drawn a very erect erection. It rose up from between his thighs, curved slightly and nearly reaching the indention of his belly button. She stared in horror because God knew she had never drawn anything so horrendous before. She wasn't into that kind of shit.

Zed nearly whined out loud, she couldn't take her eyes away from the Demon with a dick. How funny did that sound? She had never drawn anything like that before? And what did a Demon with a dick have to do with this? This sudden return of deja' vu?

She wanted to forget all about this, but she'd been doing this for the past three days. She picked the paper up and gripped it in both hands. The sound of paper tearing echoed when she tore it down the middle. She folded the bottom half of the paper containing the groin area and stuffed it in her back pocket. It wouldn't do to have anyone—a certain someone—see that. In fact, she didn't want anyone to see that.

The last time she'd drawn a man naked—nearly naked, that is, he'd had on a pair of tight briefs—and he'd used her to achieve his own means. Look where that had nearly landed her? She'd been brained washed, nearly lost her virginity and nearly ended up impregnated with the New Messiah. So Constantine had saved her from a shit load. The virginity part she could have done without, though she much preferred keeping it rather than having lost it to a Demon who wanted nothing more than to rule the world.

So kind of a win-win situation there. She'd kept her virginity, stopped the New Messiah from even being made and Constantine had sent another Demon back to hell.

She finally noticed the room around her and the papers lining the floors and pinned to the walls. She winced. She didn't like this...not at all. With a sigh, she set about to pick up the sketches and stacking them neatly and then yanking the others off the walls. The ones in the trash bins she left where they were.

She stacked them neatly into three piles, refraining from looking at the roughly sketched images of the Demons she remembered going up against. But the memory was still there and it sent a chill down her spine. She quickly began stashing the papers in the large tote she'd swung around her neck and then the pictures of Constantine in the back part of the tote against her thigh.

She wanted to ignore it. God knew she did. She was pissed and frustrated. All she'd wanted was a normal life.

For whatever reason, John Constantine had something to do with this.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two 

 

She really hated trains. Zed couldn't stand the crush of people and the tight interior. She sure as hell couldn't afford first class. Her head bumped up against the window again from where she dozed, her eyes moving beneath her eyelids. 

She moved suddenly, jolting to the side and jerking out her sketch pad and coal pencil. Her hand strained over the paper, black smudges taking place as lines formed. The clear image of a woman's back formed, kneeling on a ground on her hands and knees. One of her arms were stretched out and Zed scratched at the paper, drawling a large circle in front of the woman on the paper, tracing lines until the formed a strange design..summoning...summoning...

She blinked, startled at the transformation and the violence in which she'd taken to the drawing. It was rough around the edges, but very clear in the view. The circle she had drawn had been something the woman in the picture had colored into the ground with what Zed was assuming was chalk and she was summoning something...

Zed didn't recognize the pentagram. But she was sure Constantine would, she thought a little furiously. Watching as the world passed by, she had to wonder, was she really doing this? 

A vague sense of familiarity came over her again as the world blurred by...she sat up, one hand pressing against the windowpane. The train was going at a steady pace but she could see the broken down buildings, the graffiti that colorfully marked the worn walls. She'd seen that particular shade of green...

Realization dawned and she lurched to her feet and moved out into the center aisle. She reached up over her head and pulled the red stop cord and the train came to a screeching halt. She ignored the startled stares the passengers gave her, the glares that said they were annoyed with her abrupt departure that delayed theirs. But didn't they know she'd seen this place before? 

She'd drawn the very background of one of those broken down buildings just minutes ago! She didn't say anything as she hopped down from the train onto the gravy and then the grass that gave way to broken pavement. The train started up behind her, signaling its departure but she shrugged it off.

She looked down at the sketch in her hand and then to the right at the row of old buildings. The third one down was the duplicate of the picture. Was someone really in there, summoning a Demon? She was about to find out and put a stop to the idiot. She had to. The sense of urgency was high. 

“He's a bad influence, otherwise I wouldn't be here.” Zed muttered beneath her breath as she swung the tote around so that it was against the small of her back. She lifted one leg and slid it over an empty window and then followed with her other. The room was empty, though the ceiling was caved in and two wooden beams hung down on one end. 

This was it, though. She looked back down at the paper. No, the room seemed smaller...Keeping the sketch in front of her like a map, she trailed further down the hallway and then took a step back. She dropped the sketch and stepped into the room. Just like in her mind, the woman was kneeling on the ground, a white chalk design on the cracked pavement in front of her. Zed saw the edge of a book. The woman was whispering. 

Zed didn't think twice. She reached out and jerked the woman backward, her feet catching the edge of the circle and smearing the outer rim. 

“You idiot! What do you think you're doing!” Zed cursed out to the female. She was young, probably the same age as her, in fact. “Do you even have any idea what you're doing? What you could do? Things like this don't ever turn out good.” 

She had no idea what was on the open page of that book, but she could only discern it wasn't good. Well, wait, she was pretty sure that was some kind of sex position on the page, but that was all. 

“It's my choice. Who are you, you can't—“

Zed rolled her eyes. She'd seen too much to just let an innocent do the stupidest thing ever. Realization dawned on her. She'd just averted a crisis without Constantine. Sure, there were probably Demons in the world somewhere, but she'd just averted this one. 

“You'll thank me later. Now let me explain this to you.” Now maybe she could rest without those dizzying visions. She kicked the book out from the large circle and the white design flared to life, nearly blinding her with its intensity. A large gust of wind rose up, her heavy curls tangling around her face. She felt her feet sliding as the wind sucked them both forward. She barely noticed the white papers flying around, the wind tearing the sketched images from her tote. 

She hit the circle first, her feet sliding out from beneath her. The woman behind her gave a small wail and then Zed felt a rush of heat rise up from beneath her, from the design on the ground. She knew what was happening. She'd seen it before once with Constantine. This was a summoning circle and she was wrong if she'd thought it hadn't worked. Because it was working. 

And as the light died down, the Demon was there, towering over them. Her eyes first took in the muscled thighs, a very naked body, his clawed hands, the horns curling inward that protruded from his head...a very erect erection...he would have looked human, except for those and the violet color of his skin. Looking up at him, she realized with horror that she was looking at the Demon that she had sketched out. 

And he was looking down at her. 

_“Parancsolom neked, ahonnan jott ment!”_

She whipped her head around at the chanted out words, the leashed fury and annoyance in the familiar voice. The light came again, blinding her and she lifted her hand to shield her eyes. She heard a distinct growl before everything stopped just as quickly as it had begun. 

“Now luv, you'd think that after two years you would have learned to stay out of trouble.” The familiar accented tone had her opening her eyes, staring up at her no doubt savior. Constantine. John Constantine. Was she so unlucky that she didn't even have to go look for him? He'd mysteriously find her? And of course she'd find him like this. This, of all things. He may have saved the world, but that didn't mean he didn't have small little...side jobs to do. 

But she didn't want to be a part of those side jobs!

“Trouble?” Zed repeatedly lamely. “I didn't do this.” 

“No, you wouldn't have, would you?” His tone was dry. “Nice to see you, by the way.” His attention was already diverted to the perpetrator at hand. He squatted down. “And you, luv, you'd best refrain from summoning one of those nasty Incubus'. They may give you one hell of an orgasm but trust me when I say, you don't want to summon one. He's looking for more than a fuck buddy right now and I highly doubt you want to die today.” 

Zed rolled her eyes. 

“And you, luv, next time you decide to take on an Incubus by yourself, make sure you're not the one in the circle. You were in for one hell of a night, and not the good kind, if I hadn't showed up in the wee hours of the night.” 

No, he hadn't changed at all, Zed thought, ignoring his teasing quip. She hadn't had any intentions on taking on any Demon by herself. 

Constantine leaned down and picked up a piece of paper. “Back in the business, eh, luv?”

She looked down. Her tote was nearly empty except for a few sketches. That reminded her of why she'd come. “No, I just...” She started picking up sketch after sketch, scrambling around to get to private sketches of him before he had a chance to see them. She shuffled the papers in her hand around, stuffing three into her tote and then spread the five in her hand. Some of them were sketches of past Demons, while one was the torn paper of the one he'd just vanquished. 

He'd already seen a few of the clothed images of himself. 

“For the past three days all I've seen are these...and you.” 

“That's a sure sign as I've seen any.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Constantine shuffled through the papers. “Take a hint, luv. We've got unfinished business.” 

We? We? “Oh, no. We don't have anything. I just came to show you this, but being as how you took care of it—“ 

“Sure we do.” Constantine said, interrupting her. 

She was not going to be drawn into his dark world again. She wasn't. 

“Why is this paper tore?” 

Tore? Zed leaned in, peering down at the sketch in his hand. The other half was in her back pocket. “Don't worry about it.” She turned and bent down to pick up a few more scattered papers and felt Constantine pluck the other half from her back pocket. “Hey!”

But he'd already unfolded it. “...not what I wanted to see, but I've seen worse.” 

“The last time you did this—“ Constantine said, lifting up a fully clothed sketch of himself. “—you were definitely back in business.” 

“Trust me, I'm not.” Again, she didn't want to be. She started yanking up the scattered pieces hurriedly, bunching one up after the other and then Constantine yanked one out of her hands. 

“I'd beg to differ.” He said, studying the image. When he spoke, she heard a hint of amusement in his voice. “Been spying on me, luv?”

“What?” 

He turned the paper in his hand so that she could see. He was there, shirtless and with his pants partially undone, the feminine hands sliding across his abdomen from behind and nearly down— “NO!” She said and yanked it out of his hand, bunching it and pushing it into her tote.

“So you've been dreaming about me again? Yes, we definitely have unfinished business, luv.” He turned his back and started walking. 

No, no, no. That unfinished business meant that she was being thrust back into his world, a guide for him. And he was taking it all in stride, as if there wasn't a two year gap between them.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three 

“Well I'll be damned.” John Constantine said as he cupped his hand around the cigarette dangling from his lips and lit the end. Chas would have a bloody fit if he knew he was smoking in the library. If he was smoking in the house period. 

He stared at the opposite wall lined with books while leaning against the one behind him. The library was the one place he felt a measure of peace. He'd saved the world so wouldn't it be fair that he didn't have to worry about all the bloody ghouls, ghosts and Demons that always threatened to put the world back into the dark ages? No, he still found himself dabbling in the dark arts. Protecting him, protecting her, protecting them and nearly letting so and so get killed. 

He wasn't a 'Master' of the dark arts, he thought wryly. Still gotta change those calling cards, he thought to himself. A good couple years late in the making. 

“So I'm IT, huh?” He said to no one in particular. He had a way with things that go bump in the night, huh? He made a humming sound around the cigarette and then inhaled, the tip flaring bright orange. He tilted his head back and let out a stream of smoke. Yes, he was out. There just wasn't anyone else fit for the job, Manny had told him. 

He shrugged at the thought. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do. Even if Manny had told him to leave the Demons alone, they'd probably find their way to him. 

And he liked dabbling in the dark arts. 

Destiny was irony. 

The last person he had expected to see at a random summoning/banishing was Zed. Bloody hell, what was the little luv doing there? She was just as bad as he was, he thought wryly. She just couldn't get away from it. Sure, he'd had partners before but they'd been human. No, Zed was human, but she had something the others didn't. She was psychic. She saw things, she knew things that others didn't and in the past, those things had guided him to where he had needed to be. 

Amusement filled him, the cigarette hanging between two fingers as he lifted up a few pieces of the papers that she'd had the misfortune to miss. Rough images of none other than him. Sure, he'd seen the terrifyingly familiar drawings of his past tonight, but he knew those were of no consequence. That 'knowing guidance' of hers was back in full force, if that Incubus was anything to go by. 

And these sketches deserved to be framed, if he did say so himself. He'd always been a boastful and sometimes twisted bastard. She had to have seen these in her mind to have drawn them, he thought cheerfully. He really liked the one of some lady behind him, though he couldn't see her face. Yes, this one was going to be framed. 

Yes, Constantine thought, she was coming back. It was an unfortunate matter, one that destiny had forced her into just like it had him. It was only a matter of when. After all, who was crazy enough to walk this path with him? 

He cursed when he heard a door close and started waving frantically at the air with the sketches, trying to disburse the smell of cigarette smoke. 

“Dammit, John. What did I tell you about smoking in the library?” Chas said as he strolled in.

“I'm not.” 

“You've got a cigarette hanging from your lips with ash falling to the floor, John.” 

“Bullocks.” Constantine muttered beneath his breath as he plucked the cigarette out and flicked the ashes in a trash bin and then doused the cigarette. 

“One day you're going to set fire to the library and then where are we going to be?”

“In a burned down library?” He offered in return. “You won't believe who I caught in a summoning today.” 

“Who?”

“A certain artist who has a talent for portraits.”

Chas looked up, disbelief in his voice. “Zed? Zed Martin? She was trying to summon a Demon?”

Constantine chortled. “No, she just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time.” He tossed the sketches across the table. “And these.” He wasn't shy about the drawings. He almost wished he could have snatched up a few more. 

“Eh...so she saw you again.” With one finger, Chas slid the sketches back across the table. 

“And the Demon I sent back to hell, too. Along with a few others, but those are of no consequence.” 

“She's coming back?” Chas almost sounded hopeful.

Constantine looked back on the three of them together, he and Zed more often than not. They'd been some bloody team, alright. He snickered to himself. Maybe he was so amused at the idea because he knew she was fighting it. Knew she was fighting the thought of coming back—but she couldn't fight destiny or fate. She apparently had a hand to play in protecting the world over and over. 

Constantine couldn't help himself. He laughed. “Oh, she's coming back. She may not want to, but she doesn't have a choice.”

– --- – --- – 

 

\--- --- 

He was getting on her nerves. Constantine didn't even have to be _near_ her to do that. He just did it. Zed knew how he worked. She was familiar with him. The way he cast his spells, the way his lips moved when he chanted. She was furious with him for waking her up out of a sound sleep—the best she'd had in months—moving silently across the room to the desk and silently started on another sketch. 

Here she was again, in the middle of the night and the distinct image taking place on the paper was Constantine. He was staring straight up at her and his mouth was frozen open in what she knew was a chant. She traced his palm again with the sharp coaled pencil, straightening the lines. His hand was stretched out, the palm facing outward towards her on the paper. 

She had tried staying in bed and for a moment, she had succeeded. She had lifted a hand and balled it in a fist, patiently waiting before leaving the bed. She knew that if she didn't get the image out of her head and on paper, then she wouldn't be going back to bed. 

It wasn't just Constantine that did it. She couldn't place the blame _entirely_ on him. It was anything. A dream, a vision. She had to do it. She NEEDED to. 

She darkened the rim of his eyes until they were nearly life like, coloring in the irises black. She grimaced. How many more times was this going to happen? 

Dammit—she wanted a normal life. She tilted her head back and looked up at the ceiling. “Why the hell can't you just leave me alone? You have Constantine. Let him do your dirty work.” She waited, almost daring them to respond but somehow she knew she wasn't going to get a response. That was Constantine's area; he was good at getting responses. Both good and bad. 

Her chest moved as she gave a heavy sigh, her eyes catching the clock and the time. 3:15am. She crossed her arms on the desk and lowered her head. She wouldn't have put it past Constantine to have figured out how her visions worked. Use them against her to bring her back into the world of his meddling arts. After all, who else could do what she did? Who else would have followed him like she had? 

“I'm losing it.” Zed groaned out. 

She lifted her head and stared down at the finished sketch. She was annoyed with Constantine. A lot, and most of it didn't make sense as to why she was. Well, Constantine didn't make sense period. 

She ran a hand over her face and went to sweep the paper off the desk but something stopped her. She stared silently at the shadowy image she had colored in behind him. It towered over him, almost like a shadow, almost like a part of him but set apart. She couldn't see its face, but she had sketched the gleam of eyes, the curve of horns—

Her memory danced back to him sending the Incubus back to hell. Yes, he had. 

Her stomach dropped; she wasn't scared. Just seeing the roughly drawn image unsettled her. Almost everything she drew had a tendency to do that. But the pit of her stomach felt empty. Now that wasn't something she liked to see. 

She opened the drawer on the right and pulled out a small, neatly designed card. 'John Constantine' was printed out across the calling card in gold, along with that BS about him being a Master of the Dark Arts. She flipped the card over and punched the number into her cell phone. She didn't talk herself out of it. 

The phone rang twice and at nearly 3:30 in the morning, she would have thought him still awake. 

The man didn't sleep.

She frowned and flipped the paper over so that she had a blank canvas and cried out mentally in denial as her hand moved, coloring in a shadowed hand reaching out for the phone on the bedside table—

“Hello?” Constantine said a little too loudly in her ear.

She started when she realized what had happened. She stared down at the half drawn image and could do nothing but think, 'what the hell'? She couldn't even form a single greeting. 

“Fix the bloody thing, Chas. Hello?”

So Chas was still there, huh?

“Hello—“ 

Zed disconnected, staring at the phone in her hand. That didn't make sense. She didn't see things AS they happened. What she had was more like premonitions, they happened after she saw them. Sometimes they could change the events. Her frowned deepened as she redialed. 

_“Hello?”_ Constantine's voice echoed in her ear, the annoyance clear. She could just imagine him wondering who was calling him at nearly four in the morning. 

“Are you alright?” Zed asked the obvious. 

“Who the devil is this?”

She sighed. She turned the paper over so that she was staring at his image again. It unsettled her seeing that shadow behind him. “It's Zed.” She answered against her will. “Now, are you alright?” She asked again. 

She heard the distinct sound of his chuckle over the phone and then, “Hey, Chas. It's Zed.” and then, “Of course I'm alright, luv, why wouldn't I be? Chas wants to know when you're—“

She disconnected. That was all she wanted to know. 

Her cell phone rang and she stared at it. No, it couldn't be...

She smacked herself in the forehead. It definitely could be. Constantine had caller ID just like everyone else. She hesitated on answering it. She didn't have to. She could just—

“What do you want?” She was surprised at how even her voice sounded. 

“You called me.” He sounded amused. “You still have my number after all this time. I'm touched.” 

“I didn't remember it. I just had one of those calling cards you gave me a long time ago.” 

“You didn't call me just to see if my number was the same, luv. To what do I owe this pleasure?” As if in after thought, he added, “Or to whom?”

She had the mental image of booted feet being propped up on a table. She heard Chas in the background telling him to get his feet off the table. 

She paused, the line silent. If she confided in him, she was just opening the gape further. The more contact she had with him, the harder it was going to be to cut the ties. Those ties were knotting with each word. They were pulling her further and further back into his world. 

“Zed. Still there?”

“I'm seeing things.” She finally admitted. 

He didn't sound convinced. “You've always seen things. Are you drunk? If you wanted a drinking partner, you could have called earlier. I would have been happy to oblige.”

“No, I mean...I just saw you.” She said. The last time she'd gotten drunk with him, she'd ended up sketching a whole demon on his back in her drunken stupor. He'd ended up with a mustache on his face, too. Childish, but always funny. It was the classic thing to do. 

“You saw me?” He repeated slowly.

“Yes, when you answered the phone.”

“So you saw me when I answered the phone?” Constantine repeated back evenly. 

“Dammit, John, yes. I saw you reaching for the phone. I saw it clearly as if you were right beside me. And this—“ She said, shaking the paper in her hand as if he would see it. 

“What is 'this'?” 

Of course he couldn't see what was in her hand. That made sense. 

“I'm sorry, dear, but you're not making any sense. If you don't tell me _what's_ wrong, I'll find you myself—“ 

“Goodnight, John.” Zed said simply and turned the phone off. Her mistake in calling him. She had felt relief the moment he had spoken. He was alright and there was nothing to her fear. She was so out of touch with her ability that after two years of absence, she was making more of the situation than there was. 

For once since the week had started, she went to bed and slept.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

_Zed sighed and dragged the covers over her head. She felt...good. She had been so tired the night before and it felt damn good to be rested._

_She opened her eyes and the beside clock glared at her with bright red numbers._

_5:15am._

_She stared, almost unseeing. It was still dark. She'd only slept for what...an hour and a half?_

_“Bullshit.” Zed muttered to herself and tugged the blanket down. She rolled onto her side and reached for the curtain. Her hand froze in midair._

_Constantine stared at her from his side of the bed, stretched out on his side with his head cradled in his hand. “Good mornin', luv.”_

_Zed gasped in outrage and sat up, the covers falling to her waist. “What the HELL are you doing here!”_

_“Good question.” Constantine retorted with that devilish grin of his._

_“Get off!” How long had he been there? And how come she hadn't heard him come in? Hadn't she locked the door? She rolled her eyes at that one—as if a locked room would keep Constantine at bay. “Get off, now!”_

_At least she'd went to bed with clothes on this time._

_She lashed out, pushing against his chest with her hands and he gave a surprised grunt, his body tilting back and off the bed. Just as quickly his arms surrounded her, pulling her body down with his when he hit the floor._

_“You have a terrible bedside manner.” He commented._

_Zed braced her hands against his chest and pushed herself up. She glared down at him as best as she could in the semi-darkness. “How did you get in?”_

_Stupid question._

_“I let myself in. You know, you really need new locks. I jimmied myself in ten seconds flat.”_

_She huffed at his response. “You could have knocked.”_

_“You'd really have let me in?” Constantine asked in irony._

_She let him have that one. She wouldn't have let him in. One of his hands swept from the small of her back, to the back of her neck and then back down. Oh, no. No, no, no. “Uh uh, I don't think so, John. I am not one of your play things.”_

_He burst out laughing. She was so startled by the sound that it pissed her off a little. “What's so funny?”_

_He laughed again._

_She slapped his shoulder._

_“Does it look like we're playing?”_

_“No.” She said._

_“We could.” He offered._

_Oh, God. “What do you want, John?”_

_He laughed again and she could have slapped herself for the question. He probably found the situation so amusing because she was straddling him. Him and his ego._

_“You called me and wouldn't tell me, so here I am.”_

_That didn't make any sense at all. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. She opened her mouth._

_He held his hands up defensively. “You're the last person on my mind, dearie.”_

_Her eyes narrowed further. “I think you just insulted me.”_

_“Well, I said we could—“_

_God help her, what was with all the innuendos? She almost felt like laughing._

_The look on his face changed and then her world tilted as he rolled them swiftly. “So if you're the last person on my mind, this would be the very last thing I'd do.”_

_“Johnn—“_

_Her words ended on a mumbled 'n' because his lips silenced hers in a teasing, biting kiss before his tongue followed, thrusting into her mouth. Shock filtered through her but just as suddenly as he had kissed her, he reeled back onto his knees with a grin. She tasted brimstone._

_“Now go to sleep, luv. You're about to pass out. Nighty night...”_

_Her eyelids drooped. Staring up at him as his image started to fade into darkness, as her eyes slid closed, she had to wonder, when had she fallen asleep in the first place..._

\--- --- --- 

 

Zed never ceased to amaze him. She never had listened to him. He was almost eager to see her get back to work, he thought strangely. There was no way around that. He wanted to laugh out loud at the little lady. 

He'd warned her, he thought as he sank to his haunches and then dropped to recline against her front door. He bent his knees and rested his arms on them. He hadn't heard any movement from the inside of her apartment for at least an hour. He could just break the lock. 

Constantine bent his head and lit a cigarette in the pale light of the rising sun. 

He'd warned her, he thought again as he blew out a round of smoke. He'd said he would come and find her himself if she didn't tell him what in the bloody devil was the matter with her. She wasn't dying or anything, of that he was sure. Something to do with those bloody damned drawings of hers? And she was seeing things? He made a 'hhmming' sound.

It had been easy to locate her and he hadn't even needed a locator spell. He'd looked her up in the phone book. 

He lifted his head when he heard commotion from the inside and then the door opened. He went tumbling backwards, his head hit the floor and the cigarette fell to the pavement. “Mornin', luv.” She didn't look happy to see him. In fact, she looked a little miffed. He picked himself up and rolled his stiff shoulders. “Mornin'.” He said again. 

Zed drew her fist back and punched him square in the jaw. 

Constantine stumbled back, grabbing his jaw. “What the bloody hell was that for?”

“For last night.” Zed lifted her hand against her chest. That had hurt but was satisfying at the same time. As much as she hated to bruise that face of his, she hoped he sported one. 

“Good morning, John. How was your night? So good to see you again.” Constantine mumbled out, rubbing his aching jaw and then moving it to make sure it wasn't broken. “You started it, not me.” He muttered. 

“I'm not one of your play things, John. Kiss me again and I'll knock your teeth down your throat. For all you know I'm into women.” 

What in the bloody hell... “Wait, what? Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Are you into women?” He blurted out the obvious question at hand. For all he knew, she was into women. She'd brought it up, not him. 

“What? No, of course I'm not.” What was his deal? Zed pulled the front door closed. 

“You brought it up, not me.” Constantine said warily. She was acting strange, which brought up the matter at hand as to why he was here. He wanted to know what the bloody hell had her so up in knots. The night before when she had called him, she'd asked if he was alright. Why wouldn't he be alright? What had she seen? His eyes dropped to the tote strapped around her shoulder and chest. 

Just as quickly his attention was diverted to his still good cigarette that was smoldering on the ground. He stooped down to pick it up and then was towering over her again. He was going to quit smoking. Just not today. 

“Next time wait for an invitation, if you ever get one.” Zed retorted, though she highly doubted she'd give him one. 

He frowned, blowing smoke in the opposite direction of her. “What are you talking about?”

Zed rolled her eyes. “Don't be coy, Constantine.” 

“I'm not. I was out here half the night. I was waiting for you to wake up instead of picking that lock in fear of what you did just now.” He said, rubbing his chin in reference.

“Constantine...” Zed warned softly, lifting her balled fist. 

Bloody hell, but she was feisty this morning. He lifted his hands, talking around the cigarette. “I swear, luv. Don't hit me again.” What he said must not have been to her liking because he ducked when she swung and then caught both of her wrist in one of his hands. “What's got you so riled this morning?”

Was he really going to play stupid? 

“Riled? I've been living a pretty normal life the past two years. And then all of a sudden, boom, I see your face and everything comes back. I can't stop, I can't get the images out of my head until they're out on paper. Just like before, remember?” Zed said, thumping him in the chest. “And then I run in with a Demon and who do I find? You. That's not a good sign.”

His lips twitched. 

“But it doesn't stop there.” She freed one of her hands and pulled out the most recent picture of him, though she didn't flash it in his face. “For some idiotic reason, you show up in my room in the middle of the night, in my bed and then kiss me. You're lucky I didn't break some random body part.”

He was staring down at her, his lips twitching. And then he buried his face against her neck, his arms surrounding her in a hug. There was nothing to the hug—it was just that. God, he'd missed her. 

Was he crying? 

“Constantine?”

She touched his shoulder. It took her a moment to realize he was...laughing. 

“It's good to see you, too, luv.” John said through a chuckle, hugging her against him. He couldn't help himself. “I love your imagination. If you feel the need to dream about me and midnight kisses...by all means, you know I always keep a condom—“ 

Zed braced her hands against his chest and shoved him backward before he could even finish the sentence. She wanted to be angry, but there was a sense of humor that came when she looked at him. 

“It was just a dream, luv.” He said in merriment. 

She frowned; it hadn't felt like a dream. But he was clearly enjoying himself. Her cheeks flared pink when she realized that whether or not it had been a dream, he now knew she had the mental image of their lips locked. 

Hell. 

Fuck. Hell. Piss and damn. Bloody hell, as he liked to say it. 

She fell into step beside him when he stepped out onto the street. “How did you find me?”

“Phone book.” 

Of course. 

They were halfway down the sidewalk when he stopped suddenly and grabbed her arm. He turned and pushed her back a step so that she was on the first step of a small alcove overhead. “Sit down.” He said and then crouched down in front of her. 

She looked the same as she had two years ago. “I'm going to be blunt, Zed. I'm here for one thing. You. I told you once that you can't escape fate.” The more she fought, the more difficult it was going to be. “Has it ever occurred to you that this gift you have is as twisted into fate as mine is? There's no escaping it—not yet.” 

He gripped her forearms gently, his thumbs stroking. “Remember all the fun we had?” His tone held a hint of mockery. It wasn't something he'd call 'fun'. More like a sadistic enjoyment. “Maybe you're losing control because you're not where you need to be. You were like this when we first met. Remember? You weren't half as good as you are now until you practiced and trained under what I showed you. Bloody hell, luv, we're not that lucky. No coincidence here.”

“No, we're not.” Zed echoed his statement, her shoulders sagging in something akin to defeat. Luck had nothing to do with them. 

“Will you at least come back with me? Just for a while.” He needed her to come back. As much as he preferred to work alone most of the time, even with Chas, she had a gift that was unparalleled. Manny had once said that they had to work together. They apparently still did. “It's not permanent.” He'd went from humorous to serious in under a minute flat. 

Zed inhaled. She couldn't do it. She didn't want to. She didn't have to. He looked so forlorn. She looked down at the ground. There was no way she could do it. She was placing her life in turmoil again if she said yes. Even if she'd enjoyed part of that turmoil before. She opened her mouth, the word 'no' on the tip of her tongue but what came out instead was, “This is why I called you. I drew this.” She said in defeat with a heavy sigh, paper rustling when she placed something in his hand. 

Constantine released one arm and looked down. The sketch was just as detailed as the others, though this time he was dressed fully, even the trench coat and the tie. He noticed it right away. It shadowed him, towering over his body from behind and slightly to the right, as if the small glare of the eyes was watching the person ahead of his image. Looking at the artist, he thought. 

“You drew this last night?” He asked. 

“Yes.” She traced one side of the shadowed figure. 

John looked over his shoulder out of reflex, but he didn't have a shadow right now. That was a whole different story. 

“It's like, just there.” Finally, her fingers moved upward. “But I drew him before.” 

“You did? When?”

“The Incubus Demon. Sex God, whatever it was.” 

He shook his head. “That doesn't make sense, though.” 

“Are you sure you vanquished him?”

“Yes, luv, I'm very sure.” He'd done the same ritual time and time again to know when it was done and done right. 

“It's just...when I saw it, I got that feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to make sure you were alright.” 

“I'm touched.” John said with a small grin. 

“I'm serious, John.” 

“So am I.” He was. He helped her to her feet. “Now what do you say we get back to the house and we can discuss this in further detail?”

Zed nodded and then rolled her eyes when he threw his arm around her shoulders.


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five 

If she had expected the house to be any different, she was sorely mistaken. Nothing had changed. The bookcases were lined with spell books, there were maps scattered on one table and price, countless artifacts in small cubby holders in the wall. Nothing had changed; there was just more of it. 

She felt a smile tugging at her lips. 

She had good and bad memories here.

Constantine followed close behind her and then boastfully clapped Chas on the back. “I told you I'd bring her back no problem.” 

“Say that to the bruise on his chin.” She called out over her shoulder. 

Constantine cupped his chin in memory and winced. “She can throw a punch, I'm afraid.” And then a muttered, “Bullocks.” He took up defense immediately, though, because it didn't matter the situation, he couldn't see himself being outdone by a female. It just wasn't right. “But I brought her back, didn't I?”

She almost started up the stairs but stopped. Right above her head in a glossy wooden picture frame was a black and white sketch of Constantine. He was bare chested with the pair of hands that SHE had drawn caressing his hard abdomen...

She reached up immediately but it was just out of her reach. Placed conveniently out of her reach. A hand reached out from behind her and knocked on the picture with a knuckle and she looked at Constantine over her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed. 

“When you can reach it, you can take it down.” He said with a sly grin. 

She had the feeling he wasn't going to give her the chance—at any time—to grab a chair. The sneaky bastard. 

Chas shook his head but she could see he was fighting a smile. 

She wanted to smile too, she really did, but her mind had other things to account for. Other things that weren't going to let up. Unsettling things. There was still that two year gap. It wasn't awkward, it was just...she had to catch up. 

Her mind was ticking, almost bugging her and she dropped down onto a bean bag that was stashed in one corner and dug her sketch pad out of her tote before tossing it to the side. She drew her knees up and rested the sketch pad against them. She looked up. “John?”

It wasn't hard to see that something was bothering her. Just the thought alone nearly had him lighting another cigarette. Chas's presence stopped him. He'd probably lose the whole pack if he lit another cigarette in here again. 

The look on her face had nothing to do with her being here, either. Looking at her, she looked as if she belonged here. The look in her eyes though, she couldn't hide that from him. He sighed and grabbed a chair and turned it back so that he was straddling it as he sat down, facing her. He propped his arms on the back of the chair. “Tell me about it, luv.” 

She was quiet as her hand moved over the sketch pad. He knew better than to bug her, or even question her. For once, he didn't. He sat and let her draw, her hand moving in quick, jerky movements as she captured whatever it was that was on her mind. “You once told me that this was a gift, a guide for us.”

“Yes.” 

She looked at him over the pad, one hand curled around the edge. “Once we did what we had to do, we'd go on to the next one.” 

Constantine nodded. He wanted her to get on with the question, but he wasn't going to rush her. 

“I don't seem to be getting past this one.” And it was bugging the hell out of her, leaving her exhausted mentally. She leaned forward and showed him just like she had so many times before in the past. She was here, there was no getting past that. She was confiding in him just like she had in the past. 

It was obvious who the slide of curls belonged to in the picture. There was only one shoulder drawn on the picture, but it was naked with a sweep of curls to the side. On the smooth skin of her shoulder was a large clawed hand. She wasn't sure if it was caressing her shoulder blade, or if its nails were digging into the skin. 

Constantine tugged on his ear and then ran a hand through his hair. It didn't make sense. What was he missing here? He looked up. “Are you afraid? Do you...feel anything?”

She gave a soft laugh. “Afraid of what?”

That didn't make him any happier. He gave a heavy sigh when Chas propped his hips against the edge of the table across from them, folding his arms. Chas looked happy with the situation, as if they were one big family again. 

Hah, Constantine though. One very messed up family. 

“Just like old times, huh?” Chas threw in.

Zed shrugged and Constantine grinned. 

“I stopped the bloody sex fiend before he could leave the circle.” Constantine said, his fingers tapping the back of the chair. “It never fails to amuse me, the idiocy of others who think to summon a Demon.” 

Zed rolled her eyes at the word 'sex fiend'. “You're one to talk.” She said in reference to the roll of 11 condoms she'd seen hanging from his bag on the wall. 

“Only when I need them, luv, only when I need them.” 

That was the John she knew. 

“I thought only the person who summoned an Incubus could send him back?” Chas frowned. 

Constantine looked up. “Who said that?”

“You did.” 

It was Constantine's turn to frown. He had? Yes, he probably had. He was quiet for a moment, his mind going through the loads of scenarios in his mind and past experiences. He'd had the misfortune to come up against a few she demons in his time, though none of those had been summoned. They'd already been in the earthly plane. 

“Constantine, what is it?” Zed broke in. 

He wasn't sure what was wrong, but he was about to find out. He was going to have to backtrack. He didn't like where this backtracking was leading him. “You said I was in your room last night?” 

“Yes.” And she sounded uneasy about it. 

“Were you asleep?”

“No...” But she remembered going to sleep. Or did she? “What does that have to do with anything?” 

He remembered her punching him this morning. He rubbed his jaw. “You said I kissed you last night.” He wasn't a bad kisser, if he did say so himself. He'd brought females to their knees with his kisses. He almost snickered at the thought. He wasn't so bad a kisser that he deserved a punch to the jaw. 

“...Probably everything.” He said to himself and then looked at her. He took on a serious, almost apologetic tone. “I wasn't in your room last night, I swear, Zed. I was sitting outside your front door an hour after you called me until sunup.” 

That wasn't true. She remembered the feel of his body beneath hers and the clear taste of brimstone when he'd kissed her. She put the sketchpad aside and stood. Constantine was still in the chair and she leaned down. She kissed him. He sat frozen for a moment, but he was Constantine and it only took a few seconds for him to react. He was no saint by any means and he proved that much when he kissed her back. He didn't need a reason. When a lady kissed him, he kissed back. 

Chas cleared his throat, abruptly confused by the situation before him. 

She pulled back just as suddenly as she had kissed him. She hadn't tasted brimstone. She tasted smoke, cigarettes and Constantine himself. Something hot and all male. 

Constantine grinned. “If that's what I get for not being in your room, what do I get if I DO go in?” 

“Nothing.” Zed said, her tone dry. She picked up the sketch bad again. “When you kissed me last night...” If it had been him. What if it hadn't been? “I tasted brimstone. It was almost...metallic. Copper.”

“Demon.” Chas said. 

Constantine folded his arms over the back of the chair and leaned his chin on them. “If you need another taste test...” 

Zed ignored him and pressed the sketchpad against her face. “Please don't tell me I have an Incubus stalking me for sex.” 

“Not just sex.” Constantine threw in. 

“What else then?” More? Zed wanted to hit something. 

“Your soul, too.” 

“John!” Zed said, annoyed. She knew he was only trying to make her feel better about the situation, but it wasn't working. She knew this kind of demon was a lesser one, from what John had said, but it didn't make her any less mentally ill. 

She tossed the sketchpad along side of her tote. “Let's go find the bitch who summoned him so she can put him back where he belongs. I'd rather not have my soul sucked out.” 

“He has to have sex with you to take your soul.” Constantine corrected. 

“Same thing.” 

“It's not that simple. You weren't awake last night, luv. If you woke up this morning with any sense of fatigue, then he got something from you, though probably not what he wanted.” 

That kiss. Zed could feel her cheeks heating. “But why you?”

“Why what me?” Constantine asked, frowning. He wasn't liking where all of this was taking him, or rather, Zed. Then again, where demons were concerned nothing good came out of it. 

“You—“ Zed said, motioning towards him with her hand. “It was you I saw, not Him.” 

“Attraction.” Chas said, unfolding his arms. “They usually take on the form of the attraction. More or so less someone you fancy.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “I do not _fancy_ Constantine.” She said, her tone darkening over the word 'fancy'. 

Constantine had the good grace not to laugh. Though he couldn't stop the grin that tugged at his lips. “Sure you do, luv.” He quickly got back to the subject at hand before she punched him again. “Were YOU in the circle when He came through?”

Zed had to think for a moment. She remembered jerking the other woman back and smearing the design before the gust of wind had sucked them both forward. Yes, she'd been the one in the circle when the Incubus had come through. “Yes, I think so.” What did that have to do with anything?

“You were in the circle first. Thus, it was you he saw. You he wants. For all that He's concerned about, you summoned him. Therefore, you are his prey.”

“Prey?” Zed repeated, her voice tangled. 

“More or less.” Constantine murmured. “You summoned Him, so you have to put him back.”

“I didn't summon Him, you know that.” 

“For all intents and purposes, you did.” Constantine sighed. She hadn't even been here a full hour. Already she was in trouble. When he said so, she lifted her sketchpad in warning, threatening to slap him with it. 

“I'm not an exorcist.” 

“I know, but I am.” He emphasized.

“But you can't do it—“ Zed said. 

“Pay attention, luv.” He said, just to annoy her. “I can't; but I can help you.”

Zed had the mental image of The Exorcist, but she was the priest. She felt sick. “Then let's summon him and send the bastard the hell back. I really don't want to be screwed be a Demon, and then killed.”

“I don't want to summon him. The thing is, if we summon him, he may not be the one that comes through. We want HIM.” 

“Then how the hell do you propose we get him?” Zed snapped out, her curls bouncing as she drew her arms up around her knees. This explained those dreams. It annoyed her that the Incubus had chosen Constantine's image. That meant sex was involved. With Constantine's image. This whole thing was circled around the two of them. The image was there in her mind, even if he was the demon in disguise. 

And Constantine was thoroughly enjoying himself. 

She'd known him long enough, knew his moods, knew how he acted around the opposite sex. Maybe there was some unacquainted, unadulterated and unwanted attraction between them. 

He pointed a finger her way. “We'll discuss you fancying me later.” Constantine said and moved out of the chair. He sank down onto the floor in front of her and cupped his hands over her knees. He needed her to pay attention. He didn't like the look in her eyes. An Incubus could do that to a person. Build up a heavy facade of stress and unease so that when he came, they wouldn't stand a chance against Him. “I need you here with me, not in the afterlife.” He added thoughtfully.

Zed rolled her eyes, hiding her smile behind her knees. He really could be a sweetheart when he wanted. 

Normally, he wouldn't give a rats ass about an Incubus strolling around looking for victims. But His intended victim just happened to be Zed. So he couldn't overlook that. “We have a few options.” He mused. 

“Option One: We can sleep together.” He said, his tone thoughtful. 

Silence followed that statement. Was this how all of the females he met, probably lied to, and ended up in bed with felt when his attention was directed at them? Chas sighed. She rolled her eyes. “Option Two.” Zed said, her tone even. 

She couldn't even tell if he was joking or not. 

Constantine chuckled. “As much as I appreciate the thought, luv, sex wasn't what I'd had in mind.” He ducked his head against her knee, her punch missing its mark. “I'd prefer to keep you in my line of sight, if you can understand the reason behind that.” 

Zed nodded her understanding. Yea, she understood. If she fell asleep, she was open game for the Incubus. He could come and take it all, or he could stretch it out. She didn't want Him doing either. 

“Option One:” He continued. “I need to draw him out. But I can't do that if I'm not in the same room. I can place a Holding Spell on the room so that he will be immobile. I'll know the moment he's...” He paused. “Making his move.” They had those power crystals for that. They were very handy when it came to identifying a demons presence. 

“Option Two comes into place if the bloody thing doesn't materialize in solid form.” 

“Excuse me?” Zed muttered, growing more and more agitated with each passing moment. She wanted it over and done with. The thought that an Incubus wanted to suck her soul out was enough to irritate and scare the living daylights out of any woman. 

Unless they had a kinky fetish for things like that. Which she didn't. 

“There's a chance that when I draw him out, he won't come out in solid form. Simple as that. It happens.” 

“And where does Option Two come in?” Zed pushed the question. 

“If he doesn't, I can hold him and force him into his bodily form.”

“How?” 

“Possession.” 

Zed sat up, her arms dropping from around her knees. “No.”

Chas echoed her word, his tone hard. 

“It's a second option, luv. Not the first.” It wasn't something he wanted to do, but if all else failed and he saw the bastards transparent form, he would place a Casting spell over himself and welcome the Incubus into his body. The Demon couldn't release himself from a human body once possessed, unless he took on his true form. 

Sex was a whole different matter entirely. He was in the persons dream until things got hot and heavy. “He'll do the dirty in whomsoever image—case in point, mine—and then slam, bam and wham; he takes the soul when he takes on his own form.” 

Very crude, Zed thought, but to the point. 

“You barely survived the last time.” Chas bit out.

Yes, Constantine remembered. The memory wasn't a pleasant one. He remembered being in darkness. The sensation of being weighed down had been nearly unbearable. He'd had to watch from afar as he'd hurt people...people he cared about. He remembered when Chas had tried to cast the Demon out. 

_“I will not be cast out!”_

He remembered the vile words, the hatred and pure malice that had come with them. 

“You forget, mate, that Sex Demons are low pretty low on the scale of demons. It's just getting them there that's the problem.” He turned back to Zed. “If it comes to that, I'll take him into myself. Sooner or later, he will come out. I'll be in the holding spell as well, and with him inside me, I won't be able to leave the designated area.” 

“I don't like this, John...” 

He ignored Chas. Bloody hell, he didn't like it either. But over the past few years, he'd done a load of shit he hadn't liked. The bloody bastard had chosen the wrong lady for a hand job. “Once he's out in his solid form, WE—“ He emphasized over the word. “—will send him back to hell.”

“I'm not an exorcist.” Zed said again, her tone sour. 

“I'll help you, luv.” He said again and stood. It wasn't impossible. But it would be difficult. She was going to experience something that she should never had had to experience. 

She didn't see how he was going to help her, but he'd never steered her wrong before. She had to trust him. She had to. 

“Just one more thing.” 

“What?”

He stared at her for a moment, silent, before he spoke. “If I invite the possession, stay out of my reach, luv. He'll be in my body. I'll be in control for the time being, but you know me.” He said with a grin, white teeth flashing. He was serious, though. “He'll be amplifying certain aspects of my nature.” Sex was a natural part of John Constantine's life and they all knew it. He went after the women hard. He broke hearts left and right. It was just who he was. 

“Better yet, you probably shouldn't listen to anything I say, if it comes down to that. As much as the thought is starting to appeal to me, stay out of the circle.” If it came down to that. “Because I won't hesitate to fuck your bloody brains out, luv.”


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Five 

Dammit to hell if he hadn't been serious on his last words. He'd been blunt and he'd been truthful. He'd 'fuck her bloody brains out' if she failed to follow his guidelines. The truth of the matter was dire. If John was possessed, he'd probably say anything to entice her over. And if she failed those guidelines, he'd fuck her, the demon would come out of his body and take over and she'd be dead. 

She needed to ignore him. Stay out of his way. Let the demon grow tired of the cramped space in Constantine's body IF it came down to that. Let him come out on his own. How long was that going to take? How long would Constantine have to suffer in the darkness?

'One soul is enough for this body to handle', Constantine had said. 

He must know a lot more about the Incubus Demon than he was letting on, because he was too familiar with the situation. He knew exactly what would happen if he got a hold of her. 

Sex, he had said bluntly. Lots of sex. Good, hard sex he had said until she had thrown one of the couch pillows at his head. 

She stared up at the canopy of her bed, her fingers laced over her ribcage. He had forbid Chas to enter the bedroom at all. He didn't want another potential, possessiable body near, in case they did have to go to option two. 

Great, just great. 

She watched as Constantine drew a circle on each wall, about the size of her palm and then traced some intricate design in each center. When the Incubus was drawn out, he would be held immobile where he stood. He would be able to MOVE, just not out of the circle that would form around him. 

She sighed. 

This is what happened when she tried to help the greater good. Constantine. 

She heard him mutter a spell against the door and then saw an invisible ripple before it smoothed out. She turned her head and looked back up at the canopy top. 

The bed sank when Constantine dropped down beside her and linked his fingers beneath his head. 

She turned her head on the pillow. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Getting comfy. It's going to be a long night.” He crossed his legs at the ankle, settling comfortably beside her. Did she really think that he was going to lay on the floor? Not on his bloody life. If she even thought of going to the floor, he might just tie her down. He needed her comfortable if she was going to fall asleep. 

“Not on the bed, you're not.” 

He chuckled. “I am. Now go to sleep. Your virtue is safe with me.” 

“Yea, mine and every other females.” She was being highly sarcastic on that one. She trusted him not to do anything stupid. He'd made little innuendos before, so that was nothing new. He'd probably fucked half the women he met. She rolled her eyes. 

“Go to sleep, Zed.” 

With a sigh, she closed her eyes, her fingers drumming against her ribcage. She listened to the silence surrounding them and the sound of his breathing. She listened to the creak of the floorboards. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes. 

It was kind of hard to go to sleep when you had a sex demon waiting to murder you in your dreams in the guise of a sexy British accented man. 

“You go to sleep.” She muttered. 

“I can't. I have to place a hold over the bloody bastard. Now close those pretty eyes of yours and sleep.” 

Minutes ticked by, her chest moving in even breathes. Annoyance filled her. She had the mental image of a transparent version of her body being dragged into hell through intercourse. Oh, hell no. 

The bed creaked as Constantine got up. 

“What are you doing?” She called out, leaning on one elbow, but he left the room. 

Two minutes later he strolled back into the room with a glass in his hand. He kicked the door shut with his foot and she caught the image of a shield in place. 

“Is that alcohol?” She asked hopefully, sitting up. 

“Warm milk.” He said with a quirk to his lips. “No alcohol for you, luv.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and handed the glass to her. For the plan to work, he needed her to sleep. He'd heard warm milk always did the trick. 

He was saving the Alcohol for later and for himself. He was going to need it. 

Zed hefted a sigh and sat up fully and took the glass. She didn't really like milk. She tentatively sipped. It tasted the same, just warm. She still didn't like it. 

“Heard it always does the trick.” 

“I bet.” She muttered and to hell with it, downed the entire glass. She sat the glass on the bedside table and sank back down onto her side, the back of her hand beneath her cheek. After another minute, she gave a defeating sigh. “I just...I don't want to sleep.” It wasn't that she wasn't tired. She was terrified. The Demon she'd sketched wanted to fuck her to death. Probably not the worst way to go. But she'd be going without her soul. So it was the worst way to go.

“For this to work, you need to sleep.” He remained where he was, staring down at her. He reached out and gave one of her curls a teasing tug. “Close your eyes. That's the first step.” 

“What if something goes wrong?”

“Something always does.” 

She wanted to smile, but couldn't. That wasn't what she'd wanted to hear. But he was here. He knew just how to be there. 

She'd teased him once about being nice to Manny and saying 'please'. He'd been there when she'd come out of a sudden trance and looked down to find a heart—a heart—in the palm of her hand. He'd been there when she'd had to recuperate from the effects it had left in her mind. From the very beginning since she'd met him, he'd been there. 

Her eyelids fell. 

Startled, she lurched up but John was there, his hands pushing her shoulders back down onto the bed. His face was set. 

“Shhh. It's alright. Just close your eyes, luv. I'm right here.” 

She stared up at him through blinking eyes, and she could feel the heavy effect of the warm milk and knew instantly that he'd _drugged_ her. 

“I need you to sleep.” John murmured. It was the only way to save her. 

“John...” Zed whispered pitifully, but her eyes were already sliding closed, her body going limp beneath his hands. 

He held her down for a moment more, feeling a tid bit of remorse that he'd drugged her. He'd wanted to make sure that she fell asleep and didn't end up staying up all night out of fear. Because she would have. He sighed and lifted his head and looked at the Crystals he'd set in each corner of the room. 

They would flare up at the presence of the Demon and he reverently wished the bloody things would do so now. But he knew he had to wait yet. He'd seen fear in her eyes. He didn't like it. Zed was...she was different. 

He settled into a corner near one side of the room and drew his legs up, resting his arms on his knees. He remembered what he'd said once to Manny. 

_“I walk my path alone, Mate, because who would be crazy enough to walk it with me?”_

Manny had looked at Zed. 

He crossed his arms and settled back to wait. 

 

– --- – 

_Zed sighed, her head tilting back under the slight pressure. A hand smoothed over her shoulder and down her arm, tangling fingers with hers. She sighed again, the sound dreamy. Something nipped the curve of her neck, bringing a stinging sensation before soothing it wetly._

_“Not so bad, is it, luv?”_

_She curled into the warm words, fabric rustling beneath her fingers as she ran her hands down his arms. Not so bad? No. It was good. She liked the way he was kissing her neck, the way his hands would clench in her hair and tug her head back. He would repeat the movement, sometimes giving her hair a painful tug before massaging the sting away._

_She honestly had no idea how the hell she'd ended up here. John was a man whore, he went after anything with a pretty face. She'd been with him so long that she had grown immune to his mongrel ways. She hadn't really paid attention. Watching him act had become second nature. He wasn't ugly...they were just...friends. She just hadn't paid attention to him for so long...But oh, she was paying attention now._

_Did that make sense? No._

_She felt herself falling back and then the bed was beneath her. He moved lower, his lips teasing a path down over her ribcage. She twisted her fingers in his hair when he pushed her shirt up and he kissed her abdomen, his lips teasing right above her bellow button._

_No wonder he was so good with the women._

_She gave his hair a tug and he obliged, sliding up her body and leaning over her._

_He leaned down and kissed her._

The repetitive ticking of the clock grated on his nerves. He hadn't moved from his position in the corner. He wasn't impatient; he was calm, calculating. He was waiting. 

Zed jerked in the bed, and gasped, sucking air into her lungs before falling back to the bed. 

_His kiss was hot. God, Constantine was burning her alive with his kiss as his hand smoothed over her thigh._

John rose swiftly and was at the bed in three steps. “Zed?” His voice was alert as he pressed down on her shoulders again. Her eyes were moving beneath her lids. He checked her pulse but it was steady; he looked at the crystals. Nothing. Was she dreaming? 

_He sucked her into the kiss, pulling her tongue into his mouth. His hand didn't touch her where she wanted him. Instead, his hands clenched over the back of her thighs and jerked them apart, grinding his hips against hers. When had he taken off his pants? When had he taken off hers?_

_The back of her throat burned as he pulled her further into the kiss....and thrust deep._

Zed jerked in his arms and the only thing that kept her upper body against the bed was his hands on her shoulder. He jerked his gaze back to her face when moaned.

“Bloody hell.” He whispered. 

She gasped, almost a wheezing sound and the Crystals flared bright across each corner of the room. 

Constantine jerked back, releasing her and saw the bloody bastard rise over her body. It was like a rising mist and he cursed loudly. He watched in rising fury as Zed arched in the bed, her chest rising from the bed while her head fell back to the pillows. 

“Not today.” He said and lifted his hand. He'd already measured the distance to the bed. The bastard couldn't see him. He was just as much a ghost as the Incubus was to him. 

For now. 

But the moment he spoke the incantation, it would be a whole different matter. 

_“Va invit, una inchisa. Luati mea pentru ca eu sunt a ta. Vi invit in mine si a mea.”_ Constaine chanted the words, his tone steady. His eyes were hard as he watched the way the mist shifted suddenly. 

Zed fell back to the bed. 

Dark eyes lit up and he saw the impression of a body as its attention suddenly diverted. 

_“Mine si a mea.”_ John said again, his voice rising. He knew it was coming, but still, he couldn't brace himself for the impact that slammed him backward into the wall. He reached over his shoulder and picked up a picture frame and hurtled it across the room. “WAKE UP, ZED!” He roared out. 

He wanted her awake and aware before he lost all sense of control.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven 

Glass shattered, jolting her into awareness. Zed rolled to the side of the bed, her senses on high alert. The blankets tangled themselves around her thighs and she hissed beneath her breath as she hit the bare floor hard. 

Constantine. 

She looked up and saw him. His left arm jerked as a dark mist flowed in through his mouth and nostrils. She knew exactly what she was seeing. 

“Constantine, no!” Zed cried out and took a step towards him. 

“Stay where you are.” John said, halting her mid-step. He lifted his hand, holding her off with one finger. He sneezed violently and shook his head. “Just my luck that I'd be allergic to the demon.” 

Zed stared at him incredulously. Was he making a wise-crack at a time like this? “Dammit, John, are you alright?” 

John looked down and Zed followed his gaze. 

“Yes and no.” 

His dick was rock hard and it bloody hurt. 

Yes, he was alright because his plan had worked. No, because his hormones were going a little crazy. He had memories that he hadn't had before. Memories that involved Zed—dreams. And one hot as fucking hell dream. He would have laughed if his dick wasn't so hard. As much as he liked a little relation with the opposite sex, he hated Sex Demons. This one imp-articular.

“As much as I appreciate the audience, if you could look else where, I'd be much appreciated. Unless you wanted me to do something about it.” He said when he caught her staring at his groin. Hell, he was staring too. He looked down again. It was blatantly obvious that he was erect. 

Would it be so bad if she did something about it? 

Not really. That was the demon directing his thoughts, probably. 

Zed obediently looked away. 

He grimaced. 

“Do you have him?” 

He nodded. Yes, he could feel the agitated demons presence in his body. He was there alright. It was a dark, sludge like feeling. It wasn't violent, it was almost peaceful. And it wanted Zed. 

Too bad. 

“How long do we have to wait?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Constantine sank back down onto the floor. Very carefully. “Guess you weren't lying when you said I'd kissed you.” He said thoughtfully. The image was there in his mind. It hadn't been him, but she'd seen the image as him. “Now, we can do this one of two ways, luv. We can wait for him to get pissed and come out, or we can just do the deed now and force him out.” 

Zed sank back down onto the edge of the bed. “That's not what you said before.”

“I was being nice before.” He said with a cheerful but weak minded grin. 

“That's not you talking.”

He shrugged. “Probably not.” 

“How does that make any sense?” 

“Come over here and I'll be more clear.” 

Zed leaned forward and cupped her forehead in her hands before running her hands through her hair. Yes, it had worked. Now they just had to wait. 

“It'd piss him off rightly so that I'm getting in on the action that he came here for.” 

She ignored his little comment. She felt guilty. He'd just placed himself in his own little hell for her.

But something he said was bugging her. It was bugging the ever living hell out of her, too. She sat there for five minutes, staring at him as he fidgeted and very crudely and unashamedly straightened himself in front of her. Then again, he'd never been very shy. Then again, he probably wasn't very comfortable right now. 

She had the vague sense that he'd been wrong before. It was there in her mind. Something. She wasn't saying he was wrong about this one. But what if he was wrong about the demon coming out on its own from boredom of John's body? That wouldn't be forcing him out. 

Sexual frustration, maybe. Or knowing that John was getting what was the demons while he was inside John's body. 

What if the demon could hold out for days? She couldn't see herself letting John do that to himself. Her stomach dropped. 

She looked down at the floor where he was sitting. She could see the glimmer of the holding spell there when he moved. He was still inside it, which meant he WAS possessed. She had the feeling that he had been wrong. Those little deju' vu feelings had never been wrong before. The Demon wasn't going to cause him to...lose control. Just want sex a little more. A lot more. 

The Demon could definitely use his human form. Just not when he was inside that holding spell. 

“You remember when we first met?” John said suddenly and she looked up to find him studying her intently, looking far too relaxed for her state of mind. 

“Yes. You called me a thief. You were right.” 

He chuckled at the memory. “I almost had you in my bed.” 

“Uh, no—you didn't.”

“If those visions of yours hadn't turned out to be real, I would have.” 

Zed arched an eyebrow. “And what did my visions have to do with your decision?”

“I don't mix business with pleasure.”

She tilted her head and then deliberately looked south. “Your mind is mixing them, John.” 

“I can't control that bad boy, luv.” He crossed his arms. 

“I think you called wrong, John.” She said his name again. 

“Hmm?”

“About the Incubus.” 

“No, he's here alright.” He muttered. 

“Not about that. I don't think He's possessing you in the same sense of possession as...violence. But you're right. We don't need to wait for him to come out.” She said evenly, watching his every expression. 

His shoulders straightened as he stared at her. She swore she saw a muscle in his jaw clench. 

She wasn't above being a flirt. She wasn't above teasing. She was good at it. She'd just never acted on it. With John, at least. She wanted this over and done with. Now. She didn't like the thought of John being influenced by the Demon. Her thoughts went back to the forefront. Her and John had never had that kind of relationship. That didn't mean, she finally admitted, that there wasn't an attraction. 

“Take your shirt off, John.” She said from her perch on the bed, her voice soft. 

His shoulders tensed. Had he just heard her right? “What?” He blustered out. 

“You heard me, John.” She said his name again, her legs resting over the edge of the bed as she started tapping her fingers against the bedspread. She was playing a dirty little game, one intended for his benefit, as well as her own. She wasn't going to wait it out hours on end while his soul was being torn apart from the inside. 

If John though he was good, that was only because he'd never seen her at play. 

This was a full out cock block. A tease and play that was going to draw the Demon out—but only that. Too bad Constantine was going to suffer the full repercussion of it. 

He hadn't thought it possible, but he swore his dick just got harder. “Ah, fuck.” He said. He looked at the floor in front of him, wondering if the holding spell was still in place. Was it? Was the Demon inside of him affecting her then? He nudged the tip of his shoe forward and it butted up against the invisible shield. No, it was still there. The demon was still inside of him, so he couldn't leave the circle either. 

“Come on, Constantine. You show me yours, I'll show you mine.” Zed murmured. 

He looked up at her words and his hands lifted, jerking at the tie. Now that was a game he could play. Show and tell? His hand paused on the buttons on his sleeve. “What are you doing, Zed?”

“Now when has John Constantine ever denied a pretty little 'luv' what she wanted?” Zed said teasingly. 

Ah...bloody...hell. “Couldn't this have waited till afterward?” He asked, his voice a little high pitched. God knew if she had made that very same move at another other time, he would have ripped the damn shirt off to be rid of it. She may be ZED, but she wasn't hard on the eyes and he was a sucker for a pretty face. “We can't do anything.” His voice sounded strangled. “I can't get out of this thing—“ He nudged the holding spell with the toe of his shoe again. “—and you can't come in.” 

“Poor Constantine.” Zed said, pouting her lips. “Let's bring the bastard out, baby.” 

He groaned at her words. He tilted his head back and hit it against the wall repeatedly. “This is in-fucking-sane.” He knew what she was doing. Bullocks, did he know what she was doing. He almost whined because he felt like panting after her. He could sit it out and wait for the Demon to get pissed at being held in a human body until He broke free on his own. He'd rather suffer that than suffer a case of blue balls later on. Nice to know she was using him. But he wasn't going to play into her game if he wasn't going to get the goods afterward. 

“Fuck.” He said loudly and hit his head against the wall again. 

Something soft hit his face and he opened his eyes and yanked the material off. It was a shirt. His head jerked up so fast he had whiplash. Zed still sat perched on the side of the bed, but her arms were crossed over her chest, fingers holding each arm. And she'd taken off her shirt and threw the bloody thing at him. He was a man who liked a good pair and he knew she had a good pair. He surged forward on one knee and cursed when the spell knocked him on his ass. He caught a glimpse of black lace, the curve and thrust of a breast beneath one arm. 

He wasn't doing this. He was going to ignore her. They were getting the Demon out his way. He was the experienced one here, not her. 

“Take your shirt off and we'll play peek-a-boo.” 

All thoughts flew out the window and he whipped his shirt over his head. 

They were safe and cozy as long as remained in the holding spell and she remained out of it. She had this down pat. 

She chuckled as he chucked the white shirt across the room. That hadn't taken long. He was leaning forward and she couldn't help herself, her gaze went south. Yea, his 'bad boy' was still there with a vengeance. She felt like groaning in disbelief at what she was doing, but she had to keep going now that she'd started. 

He wasn't going to let her live this down for months to come. 

“Your turn.” Constantine said tersely. He wanted to see some tits, he thought bluntly. 

Zed remained where she was on the bed and then smiled. She lifted one hand, but her other arm still covered the center of her chest. She wiggled the fingers of her free hand at him. Then she lowered her other arm. 

“God almighty.” The words exploded from his mouth before he could stop them. 

She couldn't help herself, she gave a soft laugh at the expression on his face. Good thing she wasn't shy. She had good breasts, and she was putting them to good use. Constantine's cheeks were red and he leaned forward again. 

She lowered one strap. “Did you know I have a birthmark?” 

“No, how about you show me?” He offered, his voice still strained. 

She grinned and wrapped a finger around the bra strap, toying with it. He almost made this easy. The first time she'd seen him shirtless had been in the Honeymoon Suite. Her eyes had zeroed in just shy of going south. He wasn't huge in muscles, but he was fit. Too bad she couldn't touch him. 

“Want me to come closer?” She murmured. 

God, yes. He wanted an up close view of those breasts. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” She repeated teasingly. 

“Yes ma'am.” He thought the words tersely, too. He would have said three hail Mary's to get her over here. There was the sound of his harshly indrawn breath and a swear when she dropped on all fours and started crawling towards him. Bloody hell AND bullocks! His eyes dropped to the sway of her breasts as she crawled towards him. 

Zed laughed softly at his response. 

There was nothing like a woman who wore lace, LACE, to cover her breasts. He'd caught glimpses before. A peek of a strap through her shirts, a glimpse of pink lace sometimes when she bent over. He'd even mentioned it before and she had said, “What, you thought I went around commando? No, John, I wear panties.” 

What was she wearing now? A thong? God have mercy. 

She reached him but stayed just out of reach. He nudged the holding spell again and cursed her for choosing NOW to tease him like this. Dammit, why couldn't she have done this before any of this had happened? He wouldn't have told her no, that was for sure. 

How had he worked with her for so long and not touched her? John cursed himself for his own stupidity. 

His mind was no longer on the Demon possessing him. All he cared about was what she was doing. He wasn't thinking about what she was going to do once she accomplished her feat, or rather, what she wasn't going to do. He was thinking about the here and now. 

John looked like he was being tortured. There was a gleam of perspiration on his forehead. “Too bad I can't cope a feel.” She said, motioning with her head towards his groin. 

John stared at her and his jaw clenched again. He found the normalcy to speak. “You can cope all the feel you want, luv.”

“I just bet I can.” She said with a small laugh. She was enjoying herself, as twisted as that sound. She had seen one of the crystals start to glow a few seconds ago, but only one before it had faded out. 

Lust was a heavy, amplified sensation and as John got a better grip on his bearings, he made himself remember why he was here. The demon. Fucking Incubus. He was projecting and enhancing his physical emotions of lust and want. John was having none of it. As much as he wanted to act out on what she was offering....he tried one last time. “I'm warning you, sweet, keep going and the moment I get out of here, I'm going to fuck you till you can't stand.” He said bluntly. God help him, but he didn't want her to stop. 

She rose up on her knees and his eyes lowered to the black lace cupping her breasts. The smile she gave him was intoxicating. 

“Is that you or the Incubus talking?” 

He gave a wry grin in return. He didn't even try to hide what he was staring at. “You'll find out, won't you?” 

“How much further do you want to go, John?” She said simply, though there was nothing simple about the way she said it. Her tone was meant to tease, to entice. 

His eyes narrowed even as his mouth went dry as the strap that she had left hanging to the side slid down even further. It gave him an enticing view of cleavage and he urged it to fall lower with his mind, though the lace didn't pay him any heed. 

She knew John, knew him enough to know that he couldn't resist her for long. The man had a reputation. She was starting to wonder if she was going to have to get physical to draw the Incubus out. It wasn't as if a lot of time had passed. She was guessing five minutes since she'd taken her shirt off. 

She smiled and John wasn't sure if he liked that or not. 

He was going to need a cold shower when she was done. She probably would, too. 

John watched as if in slow motion as she reached a hand out. She moved that hand past the small white line signifying where the holding spell began. He watched as she tucked her fingers into the waistband of his pants, the back of her fingers against his stomach that was just beneath his waistband. 

His hand snaked out, locking around her slender wrist. He jerked hard and she went sliding across the floor. She slid across the thresh hold of the holding spell from the waist up while her legs tangled on the outside. He flipped them over so fast that the world spun and then she was staring up at him. 

He leaned down and kissed her savagely. 

There was nothing soft or gentle about the kiss. There was nothing but fury when he kissed her. A hard, furious passion that was boiling beneath the surface. One hand fisted in her hair and she moaned when he shoved his tongue nearly down her throat, barely giving her room to breath. In her dream, there'd been nothing the taste of brimstone. Now she tasted cigarettes, smoke, and wet heat with the smallest bite of brimstone, but nothing alarming... And something hot. Needy. Hell, that small taste should have alarmed her but he was kissing her. 

One of her hands was still trapped between them and his belt buckle dug into her palm. This wasn't part of her plan. One of his hands boldly cupped a lace covered breast. That wasn't part of the plan. Her fingers clamped around his wrist and she bit back a moan when he squeezed. 

He hooked a finger in the lace and tugged it away from her skin, baring a rosy nipple. “Birthmark my bloody arse.” He muttered. 

So what if she'd lied?

His hands weren't taking any detours. Her boots scraped against the wooden floor as she shifted her legs, sliding, trying to find purchase. His hand shifted and flattened against her collarbone, between her breasts and then began moving downward over the smooth skin of her stomach. Her breath lodged in her throat. His fingers brushed against denim and he hissed when his fingers butted up against the holding spell. Just shy of what he wanted. 

“Damn this bloody thing to hell.” He muttered.

How had he muddled her mind so quick? She'd been in control and then the next, he'd kissed her senseless, touched her senseless. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Crystals glowing faintly. John was too lost in his own lustful haze to notice anything else. 

“John..” Her words came out on a garbled whisper as he bit down on the slope of her shoulder, just enough to sting. His hand twisted in what denim material he could reach and he yanked. She went sliding further into the circle, his hand closer to what he wanted. 

Things were happening. Things that shouldn't be happening. Zed was so lost in the heat. She had to stop him. Now. Because the crystals were glowing steadily, humming with energy. She needed to get his attention. So she opened the hand that was clinging to his belt and moved it down a fraction of an inch. She closed her hand around his dick and squeezed. 

He froze against her. 

Zed jerked her hand back and slapped him, the sound echoing in the room. She didn't do it because she was angry with him. She did it to make him lose focus. She braced her hands against his chest and shoved him backward. She scrambled out from beneath him and out of the circle, her chest heaving. 

John gave a hard, hacking coughing and then wheezed from where he was sprawled on his ass as he struggled up onto his knees. He shook his head, trying to clear it and then his body stiffened before his head fell back. Zed watched in horror as black smoke poured out of his mouth in a heavy stream, forming into a solid, human mass beside him. 

She recognized the demon, the Incubus instantly and horror filled her. Because he stared at her with intent. John sat there with a stunned expression, trying to clear his senses. 

“John...” Zed called out, alarm in her voice. Fear. 

The Incubus looked her dead in the eye. 

Fear raced through her at the sight and she knew the only reason his eyes hadn't had a sexual impact on her was because of the holding spell. John needed to get out of there. She started towards him. 

John shook his head. God, he hated the smell of brimstone. He fucking bloody hated it. He lifted his head and the room blurred and he reached out a hand to steady himself against the wall. He wasn't separated from what had happened. He remembered everything. Everything. And why the hell was Zed coming towards him? 

He realized where he was and moved, tackling Zed back a step. “You bloody idiot!” He muttered and when he reached her, he spun them around so that she was in the front and he was behind her. 

Her circled her wrist and lifted her hand, stretching her arm as far as it would go. He didn't have doubts that it would work. To send any demon back to hell, you had to believe. Zed definitely believed. You had to be divined by God. Zed was definitely divined by something, alright, and that was good enough for him. 

“Exactly as I say.” He said above her right ear. 

Zed nodded, her heart racing. She could feel him behind her, his bare chest against her back. She was terrified but with him suddenly behind her, she could breath easier. 

_“Parancsolom.”_ John said, his tone hard as he stared at the demon. He didn't release her wrist. 

_“Parancsolom.”_ Zed repeated, and watched as the Incubus froze at the one word. 

_“Neked.”_

_“Neked.”_ She echoed his word and a chill raced through her at the look the Incubus sent her. Frantic. Hatred. 

“Pay attention, Zed. I'm here. _Ahonnan.”_

_“Ahonnan.”_ Oh God, how did John do this on a regular basis? 

_“Jott.”_

_“Jott.”_ Her stomach knotted. 

_“Ment."_

_“Ment.”_

_“Parancsolom neked, ahonnan jott ment!”_

She didn't know what she was saying, but she had a good idea what the words meant. _“Parancsolom neked, ahonnan jott ment!”_ The stench of fire and brimstone rose up and the most insidious, horrible whispers filled her mind. Someone screamed—something—screamed, and she half turned towards Constantine at the horrid sound but he cupped his hand around the back of her neck and held her in place. 

“No.” 

He wouldn't let her move from the spot. He kept her hand up, forcing her to look forward even as the bottom of her stomach dropped. Adrenaline rushed. And then the smell came back, brimstone. She watched in fascination and horror as a gust of wind rose up, flames bursting up through the circle of the holding spell and engulfing the demon...and just like that, the flames died down and it was over. 

Finality.

Her knees buckled and John caught her before she could hit the floor.


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

 

John caught her before she could fall, wrapping an arm around her. He helped her to sit on the floor and gave her a wry grin. 

“What do you think?” He was being sarcastic. 

“Adrenaline rush.” She said with a nervous laugh because that was something she was never, ever going to do again if she had anything to say about it. It was more than an adrenaline rush. It was a heady sensation that had left her in a dark place. She didn't want to go there again. 

John had once said that this wasn't for everyone. He hadn't meant demon hunting. He had meant exorcism. She was in the category of everyone. 

“I don't ever want to do that again.” She said suddenly, her shoulders sagging. 

“You won't have to.” John said, still holding onto her arm. “Do you think you can stand?”

“One way to find out.” She brushed his hand off and wobbled to her feet. Was this what he had to go through every time he did it? Or was he already accustomed to the hollow feeling? He probably was, she thought. 

She leaned down and picked up her shirt. 

Constantine rubbed his cheek ruefully, his expression thoughtful. “You slapped me again.” 

Zed looked over at him, pushing her arms through the sleeve holes. She paused with the shirt halfway to her head. “Yes.” 

She saw him move, but she wasn't fast enough. She was up against the wall before she could even make a move for the door. He pressed against her from behind, trapping her between him and the wall. He slapped his hands against the oak wood on either side of her shoulders, caging her in. 

Zed turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder, her hands braced against the wall. He wasn't going for decorum. He was flush against her body and she could feel the press of his erection against the seam of her ass through her jeans. “John...” She said slowly, her tone almost a warning. 

“I tease the lady luvs, not the other way around.” John said and flattened one hand against her stomach and continued exactly where they'd left off. He hadn't forgotten a damn thing. She jerked in his arms, her hips pushing backward into him when he dove his hand into her pants and cupped the hot heat between her thighs. 

Whether she was just trying to tease the hell out of him by doing that, or trying to get away from his hand, he didn't know. Both was fine with him. 

He'd warned her and it was time to pay the piper. 

Oh, God. One of her hands slid down the wall and Zed made a small sound deep her in her throat when he thrust two fingers into her body. His other hand wrapped around her waist from behind and hauled her back against his hips as far as he could with her already pinned against the wall. He ground his hips against her ass. He wiggled his fingers and her thighs quivered around his hand before closing tightly around them. 

“No problem there, luv.” He muttered against her neck. 

Keeping one hand between her thighs, John jerked at his belt. The fastening on his pants was more difficult but he managed it in three seconds flat until the khaki's were gaping open. 

No wonder he could seduce a Nun, Zed thought, her eyes nearly rolling in the back of her head. He was easily holding her with nothing but his hand between her thighs...and his fingers...driving her...wild...

He wasn't waiting. God, was he not waiting. Blue balls was a thing of the past. He bloody fucking had them now. 

“John, we shouldn't...” Zed moaned out, her voice twisted into nearly nothing. They'd just went through an exorcism for Christs sake. That was a good excuse as any. 

“Oh, we should, luv. We definitely should.” He muttered as he jerked at the fastening of her jeans. Her jeans were too bloody tight. He pushed her jeans down around her thighs and he barely noticed the black lace BARELY covering her ass. He'd admire those later. 

Two minutes since he'd pushed her against the wall. Ten seconds since he'd thrust his fingers into her wet—fucking bloody wet—body. Forty seconds total for him to shove his pants down around his thighs and free himself from his pants. Had he ever been this hard? 

He wanted her to say she hadn't felt a damn thing when she'd been teasing him. He would have brought his hand up and showed the evidence that said otherwise. 

He gripped himself in his hand and tilted her hips back away from the wall and set himself against her. He didn't give a bloody damn about a condom. He was not leaving the room to get one. 

“John, wait—“ Zed whispered, forcing her eyes open, her mind a haze of lust. 

He waited a full two seconds and then thrust. 

She cried out, the sound muffled when she bit her bottom lip but he heard it none the less. His hand fisted against her stomach and cursed. 

“Bloody hell.” His words were muffled against the back of her neck, his cock squeezed in a tight vise. His hips were flush against her curvy ass and his lips peeled back in a grimace. But he wasn't hurting. Far from it. He inhaled. “Bloody virgin.” He muttered to himself, his muscles tense from straining not to move. God have mercy on his probably still damned soul, but she was tight and a...bloody...virgin. 

“Are you alright?” He muttered. Why the hell hadn't she said something? Wait. She had said something. _'John, wait—'._ He hadn't waited. Sex was always good and it was damned good right now. Painfully good. 

Zed didn't answer him. One of her hands balled into a fist and she stood pinned between him and the wall. He was holding her hips back against him, one arm around her waist and she swore he was throbbing inside her. Hot, hard and heavy. The three big H's. He stretched her painfully, to the point where she wanted to smack him. She could hear herself breathing heavily as she dropped her forehead against the wall. 

No wonder he had women falling for him left and right. He'd managed to do the same thing to her in under four minutes. 

He didn't move, just held her against him. She shifted against him and a drop of sweat rolled down the side of his face. He wasn't angry that she was a virgin, but he WAS bloody angry at himself. It had its cons and pros. Virgins were easy—he'd had his fair share; they were easy talk, easy seduction. But damn clingy. Though, they didn't have the experience that others did. 

He should have kissed her into acceptation, teased her until she was panting beneath him. He knew all the stops and tricks. But it was a bit late for that. Sure, he'd saved her virginity once, but she was Zed for Gods sake. Two years and she hadn't? 

Probably why his soul was damned. He felt no remorse over any of the sex he'd had in his past, over the sweet, innocent women he'd purposefully deflowered. But he did regret hurting Zed. 

“Are you alright?” He muttered again. 

“I will be if you don't move.” Zed said, her eyes closed. Zed wasn't sure what was worse. The fact that she had been enjoying herself earlier, or the fact that virginity was such a bitch. 

John couldn't help himself. A deep sound rumbled in his chest, soft laughter, vibrating against her back. “That's the whole point, luv.” He had done this all wrong. But he could make amends. Boy, could he make amends. So he set out to do what he did best. Seduction always had its fine points. 

Her eyes slid open and she tensed when she felt him withdraw...and then slowly slide back in. Was she really doing this? Was she really having sex against a wall with Constantine? Constantine of all people, her mentor, her tutor? The image came along with the thought and she could see them in her minds eye. The way he was braced against her. She was naked except for the bra still clasped behind her back and the lace thong that he'd just tugged to the side. 

His pants hung around his thighs as he thrust once and then held still again. 

“Not s'bad, is it?” He murmured against her neck, bringing her out of her mind stupor. 

He hated to do it, but Constantine knew that if he was going to get anywhere, he was going to have to stop. Only long enough to get her on the bed. 

She grimaced when he withdrew suddenly and then he was turning her in his arms. Without warning, he swung her up into his arms. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you to the bed.” He stated the obvious. 

She could have scrambled away but instead, she fell back onto the pillows. When she saw him kicking his pants away, she pulled an extra pillow over her face and groaned. The pillow went flying out of her hands and then Constantine was grinning down at her. “No need to be shy, luv. I'm most certainly not.” 

“No, you're not.” She echoed his statement. “And I'm not shy.” 

He chuckled. “Then you won't mind if I do this.” She leaned up onto her elbows when he fisted one hand in the lace covering her thighs and gave a hard tug. It gave way and she slapped his shoulder. 

He grinned. “You slapped me. Fair is fair.” But he was talking about before, not now. 

She moved to close her thighs but he was already between, weighing her down into the bed. She braced her hands against his shoulders as he leaned down and she felt the sweep of his lips over one shoulder. “We really, really don't have to do this.” She murmured. They no longer had a demon to worry about. Everything that was happening now was all them. 

“I did warn you.” He murmured nonchalantly against her neck. His right hand moved up and down her thigh, stroking the smooth skin repeatedly with the tips of his fingers. The other was cupping the side of her neck as he moved lower, his tongue sliding into the indention at the base of her throat. His thumb smoothed over her pulse. 

He'd gone from hard and dominant taking, to just idly stroking her body. She idly wondered how he'd gotten her to the bed without her denial.

She inhaled when he dipped his head and placed a kiss over the slope of one breast. Lower, she exhaled when he placed a kiss over one lace covered nipple. “God dammit.” She whispered suddenly, her fingers tightening over his arms before releasing, but still holding onto him. 

He gave a soft laugh at her curse but didn't lift his head. “What?”

She opened her mouth and he opened his. He closed his mouth over her and the lace, drawing both into his mouth. 

He bit down slightly, enough to sting JUST because. She was Zed; not some WHOLEY innocent chit. 

Zed let out a small hissing breath. 

He was taking things slow now, Constantine thought, but next time things were going to be hot and sweaty. He owed her this right now. Not to mention, he was enjoying himself right now, too. Yea, he was already planning a next time. The thought should have scared him, but it didn't. He never went back to the same bed twice. He shrugged the thought off. 

Zed was going to be a damned hellfire in bed. 

He hooked a finger in the lace hindering his view and tugged it down. 

Zed gasped when his hot mouth closed over a bare nipple and his teeth set down with another stinging bite. His hand squeezed the back of her thigh. He sucked hard and then let her flesh pop from his mouth and blew hot air on her skin. 

He moved lower, his hand following his progression until he was cupping her knee, his thumb caressing the flesh behind. His tongue dipped in her belly button and Zed undulated, moving restlessly. 

“What are you doing?” She whispered.

He was glad she couldn't see his grin. “Is it working?” He murmured back. 

She didn't answer. 

His tongue left a wet trail to first one hip and then the other before he was kissing down the front of her right thigh. He darted inward and delivered another one of those swift, teasing bites that had her exhaling loudly. Kissing the crease of between one thigh and hip, he was dying on the inside because God almighty, Zed was smooth and flawless between her thighs. 

He hadn't even thought. 

His dick twitched. 

He leaned down and placed a hot, wet kiss between her thighs. His chuckle vibrated against her again when she tugged on his hair hard enough to sting his scalp. 

“Dammit, John.” 

Her panted and so low whisper that he barely heard it, reached his ears and he drew her clit into his mouth and sucked hard, his fingers clenching around her thigh.

He pressed a kiss again, followed by the glide of his tongue. She yanked on his hair and Constantine gave another one of those low laughs before he slid up her body, planting his hips between her thighs. 

“I'd say it's working.” He answered for her. 

Any denial she'd had was long gone. It hadn't taken long before she was a puddle of lust beneath him. Because she was definitely lusting right now. The man was making sure she couldn't think coherently and that 'no' wouldn't even pass her lips. It was working. 

She could do the regretting part later, perhaps. 

Right now, she had better things to do. Like tangle her hands in his short, messy hair as he kissed her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth in the imitation of sex. She moaned, the sound trapped between their lips until he pulled back with another curse and then she felt the hard, blunt tip of his cock pressing against her. She inhaled, her body tensing when he pressed with his hips. He thrust in slow, dropping his forehead against hers. And she felt every hard inch that speared her. 

“Still working?” He murmured. 

“No.” She responded with a whisper of her own, the lie sliding off her tongue like fine wine. Her body was still tensed, having expected the abrupt pain from before but it wasn't there. Not like before anyways, there was still the initial pain of his entry, but it wasn't...as bad as before. 

“Good.” He said, reading her lie for the lie it was. With her thighs gripping his hips, Constantine pulled out of the tight grip of her body and slid back in just as slow. He did it again. And again. He dropped his forehead against her shoulder. 

One of her hands was still tangled in his hair. She didn't release him as he moved against her, his hips sliding back and forth in that same slow rhythm, rocking into her. His skin was damp against her, his hair sticking against her palm. The pain wasn't so bad. It was fading with each glide of his body into hers. One of her feet slid along the sheets of the bed restlessly as he moved between her thighs, as if he were making love—not fucking. But love had nothing to do with this, she thought wryly. 

Her thoughts were slowly dying off. With every thrust, her body grew more accustomed to him until there was nothing but the thrust and drag of him. Her eyes slid closed and her thighs tightened around his hips. 

Constantine kissed her shoulder, his forehead resting against her damp skin. She was choking him with her body and it felt too damned good. He gave another slow thrust and hauled her left thigh up higher, his fingers bruising her skin. 

She wasn't sure how long he'd been thrusting, moving against her leisurely but before long she couldn't breath. Her body was wounding tight, and he was riding her further into it with each slow, heavy thrust. With his next thrust he groaned against her shoulder. He withdrew and when he came back, it was little quicker, grinding his hips down against hers. 

Her nails scraped his back. 

The next thrust was the same and her mind flashed with his image, the muscles of his back flexing as he moved over her. He wasn't going at it hard, but his speed was increasing, but still slow. She moaned and his hand squeezed her thigh in echo of it. 

Yes, that was what he wanted, John thought. Those sweet little sounds. 

His thrusts came, over and over, grinding against her, thrust and withdrawal. “John.” Zed whispered, her voice tight, low. She moaned out his name again, her voice breathy in the silence of the room. 

He thrust again, his balls drawing up tightly. “Come on, luv, that's it.” He shifted his hand and then gripped her ass, giving it a hard squeeze and hauled her hips up against his hard as he thrust back in. He couldn't help it. He needed that hard shove, that hard thrust that buried him deep. 

She gasped and the sound reached his ears. He froze when he felt that first ripple around his cock. A rough groan tore itself from his chest and he reached over her head and gripped the headboard. One handed, he hauled her hips up against him again. He couldn't stop himself; he gave three hard thrusts, his breath heavy against her shoulder, driven into ecstasy by the feel of her body clenching around his repeatedly in climax. On the fourth thrust, his balls drew up painfully and he groaned again, convulsing against her as his body pulsed, releasing all of his pent up frustration inside of her. 

He shuddered once, twice, three times before slumping against her. 

Zed relished in the moment, her body still thrumming with aftershocks of her orgasm. Okay, now she understood the female populations infatuation with Constantine. He was panting against the slope of her breast and she ran a hand over his right shoulder. She could feel the heavy pounding of his heart against hers. 

Finally, she nudged his shoulder. When he didn't respond, just gave a heavy, satisfied sigh against her skin, she touched him again. 

“Mmmhmm?” He mumbled out. 

“You're heavy.” 

His weight lifted and then she felt the heavy drag of his body leaving hers before he was rolling to the side. He rolled to his back and then threw an arm across his eyes. “Please tell me you're on the pill.” 

“I'm on the pill.” Zed said, tugging the tangled sheet up and wrapping it around her body as she sat up.

Constantine lifted his arm a fraction of an inch and looked at her. She'd been a virgin; why the hell would she be on birth control? “You wouldn't lie to a crippled man, would you?” 

He hadn't meant to do that. He'd been vaguely conscious of the fact that he didn't have a bloody damned condom, but he hadn't stopped. He hadn't been able to stop once he felt the first convulsive grip of her body coming around his. That was a first for him. Not even with Ann Marie had he done that. He'd always used a condom so it was almost second nature for him NOT to pull out. Except this time he'd had very good reason to pull out. 

“You're not crippled.”

“I feel crippled.” And then. “Bloody hell.” He muttered beneath his breath and dropped his arm back over his eyes. The thought of a mini Constantine running around was enough to send chills down his spine. 

“I'm on the pill, John.” 

He peeked at her again and blurted out, “Why the bloody hell ARE you on the pill?” 

She looked at him with what he was sure was annoyance, as if the fact that she was on the pill should have been obvious. “I'm a virgin, not stupid.” 

_“Were.”_ He corrected her. 

“What?” 

“You were a virgin, luv. Past tense.” He said with a sense of pride and once again, settled his arm over his eyes. He was content to just lie there. Something soft hit him in the face and another followed over his groin area. He plucked the pillow off his face and opened his mouth. He paused when he saw her shimming into her jeans.

“What are you doing?” He was normally the first one to leave a chits bed. 

She looked at him over her shoulder as she pulled up her zipper. “I'd rather Chas not see me naked, thank you very much.” He didn't respond to her words by getting up and getting dressed. Chas had probably caught him naked more times than even she had. Probably had to drag him out of the bed, a few times, too, to save him from any male conflict. 

“Unless he's a peeping tom, luv...” He said, letting the sentence hang in the air. Chas wasn't a peeping tom. Amusement filled him and he chuckled. 

Zed tugged the shirt on over her arms and then pulled it over her head, tugging it down over her stomach. “Chas is about to come through that door and—“

The door opened before she could even finish her sentence and Constantine sat up on the bed and even though he wasn't shy about his nudity, he held the pillow to his groin with one hand. Ah, so she'd had a vision.

Chas looked from Zed to Constantine, his lack of clothes and the rumbled bed. He crossed himself with one hand, muttered something beneath his breath and then tossed the contents of the bowl in his hand at Constantine. 

Something wet splashed him across the face and splattered his chest. The aroma of holy water rose up and he cursed loudly, wiping at his eyes. “God dammit, Chas, I'm not bloody possessed!” 

Chas stared at him in disbelief and Zed doubled over laughing. 

“I warned you.” Zed said through her laughter, throwing his own words back at him. 

\--Your reviews mean the world to me--


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